Story cover for Anxiety Waves by Eevee-Nymphia
Anxiety Waves
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Complete, First published Mar 25, 2025
Mature
In this dark world there might be light. But that light might be breathless with stillness and cold. These come from a place deep down in the soul where it's hard, yet easy to find. That comes for your awareness of sadness and depression. The rain on a cloudy dreary day with a cold chill sensing your body. But in that comes the pitter patter of raindrops and calm noises. With that the mind and body is still and limp making no sounds but still aware of its surroundings, unknowing of the things they're seeing and feeling, altogether getting overwhelmed in the darkness where there is no light to be seen. Day in and day out is the same cycle, nothing changing so they or it doesn't make a mistake. If they do, then it goes through the whole day into  a rain storm, gloomy, chilling and dangerous. Getting angry and agitated by the smallest thing or shy, reserved, and repressed in a lazy lonely state. Not getting their job and work done. Vegetating until night time when they just sleep and try to do their routine again. They might even go deeper and deeper into the darkness and never get out.
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Sometimes I wish I knew what it felt like to be someone else, anyone other than me, really. It's not that I dislike who I am(I do sometimes), or even that I'm lost. It's more like... I'm curious. Curious about the weight of other people's thoughts. The texture of their fears. The shape of their joy. None of us walk the same path, even if the streets overlap. None of us carry the same sky, even when we stand under the same stars. I often wonder, can eyes that have seen different corners of the world ever truly see the same world? Two people, standing side by side, might witness the same event. But they won't feel the same chill in the air. They won't flinch at the same memories. They won't hear the silence in the same way. So maybe we don't live in one world at all. Maybe we live in billions. Each one stitched together by memory, perception, pain, and hope. But maybe we can get close. Maybe, with enough honesty and enough patience, we can build bridges. Quiet little bridges made of words and glances and shared stillness. Maybe we can stretch ourselves across the gap. And maybe, just maybe, if you're willing to meet me there... I can show you what it's like to be me. So come. Walk a little with me. Let me try to emulate this strange maze of thoughts, this ever-shifting fog I call a mind. Let me turn myself inside out for you, just for a moment. The name's Blank. And I welcome you to the world through my eyes, my imaginary audience, watchful, patient, and perhaps just as lost as I am. Together, we might not find all the answers. But maybe, if we're lucky, we'll find the right questions.